


First Time

by blustersquall



Series: Fenris x Kestrel Hawke [4]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age - Various Authors, Dragon Age 2, Dragon Age II
Genre: Consensual Sex, Couple, F/M, First Time, Hawke Estate, Kirkwall, Kisses, Oral Sex, Sex, Sexual Content, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 20:55:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2521466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blustersquall/pseuds/blustersquall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One shot. Three years of flirting, of furtive glances and growing tension. Three years of wanting and resisting. One night it's just too much for Fenris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Time

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline:  
> After "A Bitter Pill" and after "Questioning Beliefs" in Act II. In my playthrough with Kestrel, she doesn't tell Fenris not to go after he talks to her about Hadriana and consequently doesn't get pinned against the wall, she let's him go. When he speaks to her of Seheron and he talks about "never wanting anybody/needing anybody/until now" that's kind of what causes him to go to the estate later and then it all happens.

As the door to her bedroom creaked, Kestrel glanced up from her journal, sweeping her fingers through her loose black hair. Orana peeked her head around the door timidly, still holding the door handle down.

"Mistress?" the elven girl inquired as she spotted Kestrel. She entered a little further into the room when Kestrel waved her in.

"What is it, Orana?" Kestrel asked, rising from her desk chair and tightening the ties on her house robe.

"There's a...." Orana quickly looked back behind the door. "One of your companions, the elf with the white hair--"

"Fenris."

"Yes," Orana nodded, "he is here to see you."

"That's..." Kestrel let out a short breath through her nose, curling her toes into the rug. "Odd," she muttered. "Alright, show him up."

With another shy nod, Orana disappeared and Kestrel waited. Her stomach turned over uneasily. She had seen Fenris only that afternoon, deliriously drunk as he was, celebrating the anniversary of his escape. He had told her the story of it - an interesting tale, and clearly one that had been difficult to recall - but when she had left him, he had been in high spirits.

She paced slowly, shifting her hair over her shoulder and beginning to braid it through her fingers, quickly pulling one segment over the other. She wondered if there was something wrong. Hadriana was dead, and there hadn't been any slavers in the city for weeks. Perhaps he had received information about Danarius. It was odd for him to call so late.

The door to her bedroom widened, causing Kestrel to pause in the styling of her hair. Fenris all but marched in and stood opposite her as Orana followed quickly up the stairs and hung back.

His eyes were down, and shoulders hunched and tense as if he was a spring about to snap. Every visible muscle was tight and strained, like Fenris was fighting for control. Orana hovered at the door uncertainly, her gaze flickering between the occupants of the room, until Kestrel gave her a gentle nod to let her know she could leave.

Orana closed the door behind her and the air in Kestrel's room practically pulsated with tension.

Kestrel noticed the elf's eyes on her, slowly moving down her body as she finished tying her braid. It reminded her of the way he had looked at her - examined her really - the night they had met and he had discovered she was a mage. That night his eyes had been full of distrust and almost disgust. Now, his eyes were hard and difficult to read. He looked at her in a way she had never seen before, and it caused her stomach to twist uncomfortably. His gaze lingered at specific places, her mouth, her neck, her hands and fingers wound up in her hair.

He didn't speak. He looked as though he wanted to but the words wouldn't come. Kestrel saw him swallow once, twice. His fingers furled and unfurled as he appeared to try and focus.

"So," Kestrel dropped her hands from her hair and folded her arms loosely, "Fenris?"

"I have been thinking of you," Fenris announced gravely, crossing the space between them until Kestrel could feel the heat of his body invading hers. "In fact, I have been able to think of little else." She stared at him wordlessly. He was stooping to her height, his face, his mouth so close to hers she could clearly see the lines around the curves of his lips, feel his breath on her mouth, see the thrum of his pulse in his neck.

His green eyes, illuminated orange and gold by the fire, intensely gazed into hers, every inch of him taut and rigidly wound. "Command me to go, and I shall."

Kestrel swallowed thickly and her breath shuddered as she practically forced it out of her lungs. This was not what she had been expecting. She had expected a rant, another snarling tirade about mages and Tevinter and Danarius, something to that effect, something she was used to. The idea of Fenris coming to her like this, while certainly something she had imagined privately, was definitely the last thing she had pictured. But it was happening. Now.

This was actually real. He was there in her room, staring at her with what she recognised now as hunger and heat in his gaze that made her knees weak and warmth spread up her neck and cheeks.

"I...," Kestrel mumbled, drawing the tip of her tongue across her lips. She had _waited_ for this, and in her mind had planned what she would say a dozen times, never thinking she would actually ever have to call on those rehearsed words. Now when she searched for something to say, something smart, or witty, or just coherent, now was when her mind failed her. "There... uh-- no."

Fenris bowed his head. "I understand." He turned, taking a few purposeful steps towards her bedroom door.

"No!" Kestrel snatched one of his hands and he stopped. "No. I meant 'no' as in, 'no, don't go'. Not 'no, leave'." He looked at her, confused, as she released his fingers. Kestrel smothered her face in her hands, smoothing them across her skin and resting her palms against her shoulders, continuing to babble, looking around her room, anywhere except at Fenris and his fervent gaze. "I meant you should stay. I want you to stay. I'm just surprised and I never expected this to happen, and now I can't stop talking. I'm just going to keep saying words aren't I? Yes. Of course I am. You could chime in any ti--"

His mouth on hers caused any and all other thoughts to extinguish in her mind. He cradled the back of her head, his lips moving against hers with a confidence that was unexpected. He kissed hard and with abandon, eagerly. His tongue slid past her parted lips, and a small moan arose from her throat without permission. At that, Fenris laughed against her mouth, a sound that was more like a rumble, and it vibrated down to her core. His arms drew around her waist, pulling Kestrel against him, blocking the gaps between them where any light or air could filter through.

Up on her toes, Kestrel wound her arms around his neck, her fingers into his hair, dragging her tongue across his lower lip, keenly slipping her tongue into his warm open mouth and across his tongue. Fenris' hands fisted the material of her house robe at her waist. Vaguely, one hand to travelled across the swell of her hip and then rose again, pressing into the small of her back.

Kissing him was like nothing Kestrel's mind her ever imagined - and she had imagined it more than once. He was greedy for her, devouring her lips, her breath, as she did his. The heat, the _need_ that washed over her in waves was overwhelming, ebbing off of him like a tangible being. Her senses filled with the sounds and smells of him. Her body and lips moved almost of their own decision, desperate to touch and taste and _feel_ him.

Pulling away for a moment, Fenris' mouth trailed across her cheek, his lips closing around Kestrel's earlobe and his teeth following, biting down on the flesh. Her skin was practically on fire beneath her flimsy clothing, and her eyes closed as he ventured further, nipping the shell of her ear.

Heat rose through Kestrel's body, starting from her core, her stomach, and slowly beginning to trail up through her chest. "Fenris--," she mumbled breathlessly, drawing his mouth back to hers, kissing him hard and roughly curling her fingers into his hair.

He pushed against her, blindly moving for her bed and searching for it with one hand vaguely outstretched behind them. His fingers closed around one of the bed posts and he guided them back further until Kestrel's knees buckled on the edge and she tumbled backwards and landed with a yelp.

"Graceful," he remarked, staring down at her. Her chest rising and falling quickly on short breaths. Her robe had loosened a little from the grip of his hands and he could see the faintest flush across the skin of her chest, the swell of her breasts. Her lips were reddened, parted, delicious, and she looked at him virtually with defiance from where she leaned up on her elbows against the mattress.

Reaching out, he touched her face, guiding her to rise onto her knees. She turned her head, grazing her lips across the bare flesh of his palm, her eyes never leaving his. When he followed her, kneeling on her bed, she leaned away from him, teasing him with the temptation of her mouth so close, but artfully dodging away from him.

"Kestrel...," he murmured, tracing the curve of her spine with one hand. With the other he gently encircled her neck and pressed against the racing pulse point with his thumb. He bit down on the lobe of her ear when her mouth remained out of reach, tangled his fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck as her braid began to vaguely unravel.

She hummed, fiddling with the buckles and straps of Fenris' armour, working leather from metal with shaking fingers that refused to co-operate. Fenris loosened her robe, slipping his hands inside the fabric, skimming his claws across her flesh. The metal scratched, creating faint reels across her skin.

Kestrel cursed, "Blighted, nug-licking, shit-for--"

"Interesting choice of words," Fenris remarked, leaning back, eyebrows raised. Her face was marred in concentration and he quickly realised why: one of the straps of his gauntlets was stuck, twisted around the buckle and knotted.

"I-- this--," Kestrel grunted. "Your armour is a real passion-killer." She let out a small scream of frustration at the items, their design thwarting another attempt at removal. Kestrel covered her face with her hands, glaring at the offending pieces of protective wear through her fingers.

Hiding his smirk, Fenris quickly fixed the twisted strap and completed the removal of both gauntlets, dropping them and his claws to the floor noisily. "You need only ask," he told Kestrel, mouth quirking to one side.

"Don't look so smug," Kestrel remarked, pushing against his shoulders and forcing him to lean back, taking his weight on his hands as he stretched his legs out before him. "I would _love_ to see you try and figure out the armour I wear."

"I'm fine with what you're wearing now," he explained, and tugged vaguely at the loose material of her house robe. "Certainly makes the task of undressing you easier when the material is as flimsy as this."

Kestrel narrowed her eyes, kneeling over Fenris' legs, straddling his hips. "Fenris...." She touched her forehead to his and rocked her hips against him. He bit back a moan, curling his fingers into the fabric of her robe at her waist. Her lips touched his, reigniting the heat in moments. "Too much talking."

Another roll of her hips, this time more direct as her heat brushed across the hardness growing in his leather breeches. Fenris' mouth opened on a gasp. Her tongue slid past his lips and suddenly it was all stolen breaths and growing friction, desperate kisses, as they devoured the other's passion.

Kestrel bit his lower lip, Fenris nipped the tip of her tongue. She arched her head to one side, he followed, drawing his lips and teeth down the column of her neck until he was nuzzling the mound of her breasts.

With long bare fingers he eased the fabric of Kestrel's robe off her shoulders and down her arms. Her skin practically burned beneath his touch and the lyrium in his flesh pulsated excitedly.

His breastplate came away more easily than his gauntlets, and soon Kestrel was working at the clasps of his tunic.

She nibbled his throat, biting down on his pulse point, following the trail of opened clasps with her lips and fingers, leaving fire across his flesh with every kiss and caress. Fenris held tightly to her hips, arching his head back against the headboard, swallowing air breathlessly.

He eased one of her arms from her robe, and then the other. They struggled for a moment, her elbow stuck in the draping material.

Kestrel drew her attention away. "Hang on...," she muttered and averted her gaze to her sleeve and where she was stuck. "This is a fine time for my bloody arm to get stuck."

Fenris smoothed a hand down her back, down the curve of her spine, his fingers tracing the dip of each vertebrae. Leaning forward, he snatched her mouth with his, kissing her slowly, his lips gliding, his tongue smoothly running across hers, leaving her a little breathless when he broke away. "We have time."

Kestrel tugged her arm from its fabric prison. Her elbow carried on moving, it seemed, snapping into Fenris's jaw. He held his cheek and Kestrel gasped. "Maker's flaming--" She was half laughing, half appalled. "Fenris, I am so sorry. I can't believe--"

"It's fine," Fenris assured her, smiling a little because he saw the funny side. It didn't hurt. He had suffered far worse injuries and all that had caused him to pause was the shock of suddenly having her elbow in his face.

"Let me get some water, or a poultice, or--" Kestrel was climbing off him. Fenris wrapped his fingers around her arm, partly to stop her and partly to steady her as her foot caught on his shin. She tripped over her own legs, or his, and stumbled off the bed, barely catching herself before she had a close encounter with the floor.

Her robe, loose from the attention of Fenris' hands, dropped from her hips and pooled around her feet on the ground.

She stood facing him for a few seconds. Eyes wide, black hair mussed and gradually becoming free of the weak braid she had tied not long ago. Blush rose across her chest, rising up her neck.

And he couldn't stop staring.

He pulled her hands away as Kestrel tried to cover her face and just looked, admiring the woman before him in a way he had wanted to for years, but had never been given the opportunity.

The robes Kestrel wore did no justice to what lay beneath them.

Slim shoulders, long arms, and tapering fingers. Breasts that seemed relatively small, but were right for her size. A small waist, which swelled to wider, womanly hips. She had muscle, lithe across her arms and torso, from wielding her staff. Every inch of her skin was imperfect. Moles, freckles, and countless scars decorated her flesh in intricate and secret ways, and he wanted to know all of them. Memorise every single mark and line. Her breast band and small clothes covered what he couldn't see.

"Say something," Kestrel murmured, eyes averted to the ceiling as she blushed furiously. "It's very... unnerving, you looking at me."

"You're...." Fenris stood up, drawing his eyes down across her body again, wanting to hold on to the vision, imprint it on his mind to recall whenever he could. "You look..."

"Isabela is prettier, I know." Kestrel shrugged her shoulders, visibly uncomfortable beneath his scrutiny. "Her breasts are bigger than mine," she added in a small voice.

Fenris raised an eyebrow and chuckled, "your breasts..." He placed his lips on her forehead, holding her hands still. "...are fine." His mouth drew down, crossing the bridge of Kestrel's nose. "Not fine, they're beautiful. _You_ are beautiful."

Kestrel looked at him through half-hooded eyes, swimming with warmth and wanting. "I suppose that's not a bad start..."

"Start?" Fenris repeated, his mouth hovering over hers.

Her hands slipped down to his belt as he kissed her. Breath mingling, open mouths, and swallowed moans of satisfaction. Her fingers trailed across the leather, seeking out where to start unbuckling. He urged for her to reach lower, to touch him where he desired most, as his discomfort grew.

"Why is everything you wear complicated to remove?" Kestrel grumbled against his mouth, her hands pausing.

"Are you stuck?" Without awaiting an answer, he removed straps from buckles himself and the offending object joined the other clothes on the floor. "Everything else is simple, I promise."

She kissed him hungrily, hurriedly pushing his tunic from his shoulders. Her fingers drifted across his shoulders and down, tracing lightly over his muscles, which twitched in reaction to her touch. Her lips followed, leaving a hot trail of open-mouthed kisses down his neck and across his collar bone, as her fingers wandered. They traced the muscles of his chest and stomach, then drew the lines of the muscles on his back, up across his shoulder blades.

"Do I get to stare at you now?" Kestrel asked, murmuring against his clavicle. She was teasing, but he pulled away and stepped back with the curve of his knees and calves touching the edge of her bed, to allow her to see him.

It was a bad idea to do so, to stand back and let her admire him. Immediately, memories accosted him, returning him back of his time as a slave. Being on display and examined, leered at and lusted over by simpering fools all looking for a foothold into Danarius' good graces. Unable to speak, or move, or breathe without his master's expressed permission. The lingering gazes and soulless eyes of the Magisters, haunting him, admiring the lyrium in his flesh, fawning over Danarius and his 'pet'.

As if sensing his discomfort, Kestrel gently touched the palm of one hand to Fenris' face, the pad of her thumb drifting over his cheek bone. It was all she did, stroking her thumb back and forth tenderly and steadily, drawing him away from the thoughts that tormented him, her touch merely ghosting over his skin.

"Hey Fenris, come back to me." Kestrel's voice was like an anchor that grounded him at once. Pushing his memories away and jolting him back to the present. To her. Standing nearly naked in front of him, open and warm with an expression on her face he'd only ever dreamt of seeing: loving, kind, and sympathetic, yet lacking any pity or poorly-hidden disgust. "We can stop if you want. If it's too much, I understand." And he knew she did, if he wanted to stop this she wouldn't be offended or upset. That she understood, at least very basically, the fear he felt.

He touched her hand, his skin brushing across her knuckles, linking his long fingers with hers. "No," he shook his head and kissed her palm, "I'm alright."

"Fenris," she murmured softly as she stepped towards him, the warmth of her body wrapping around him. She leaned up, kissing his mouth without the desperation or heat of previous ones they had shared. There was warmth there, a gentleness and love that made him feel he might topple over the edge of the precipice he walked along on a daily basis, delicately balancing himself between man and beast.

It surprised him just how much emotion she could convey in the gesture, and what those feelings were. It stole his breath, the strength of her passion, the way her lips caressed his and told him everything she wanted to without words. That here, with her, he was safe, he was loved and wanted as a person with as much right to happiness and joy and life as anyone. That it didn't matter to her he was an ex-slave, an elf, that he had nothing to offer her. She saw beyond all that, beyond the horrors of his past and what he had done to survive, to the man he was beneath, and loved him still.

As she pulled away, he leaned his forehead against hers, chasing the breath she had snatched from him. Her eyes closed, she smiled, biting her lower lip into her mouth, drawing her fingers across his cheek and down his neck.

"Kestrel, I...." He rarely found himself at a loss for words, but he did then. To simply say thank you seemed insufficient, to return what she had shared with him with simple words would be a disservice, but he had nothing else to offer. He felt her fingers tracing the lines of the lyrium markings, and three in particular interested her, a trio of dots in a triangle just above his heart. She traced the shape deftly, pausing only when he lay his hand over hers, holding it there. She looked at him, hazel eyes deep and gentle in their gaze. "Kestrel." He swallowed air, struggling to find the words to appropriately express himself.

"Your heart is beating so fast," Kestrel pointed out, pressing her palm against his chest.

"You do that to me," Fenris admitted, the words escaping his lips before he could stop them. Her eyebrows rose as she looked up at him. "It beats... for you." He hesitated before continuing, bearing himself. Making himself vulnerable to her frightened him more than he cared to admit. His breath hitched before he spoke again, looking into Kestrel's eyes and finding the strength he needed there. "I am yours."

With a small smile, Kestrel eased her hand from beneath his and his own dropped to her waist. She kissed the area of the three spotted markings and nuzzled his flesh, drawing her fingers down his back slowly, feeling across the contours of his muscles.

As she looked up at him from beneath long, ash-coloured lashes, her eyes filled with longing, heat reignited in Fenris' belly. He bent at the waist, capturing Kestrel's mouth and drawing her back up to his height. Encircling her in his arms, he slid his hands down across the expanse of her back, tickling across her flesh, feeling it rise in prickles beneath his touch.

Kestrel pushed him back, gently easing him against the edge of the bed where his knees bent, and he sat, drawing his mouth down across her flesh, kissing and nibbling across her ribcage and down towards her navel. Her hands on his shoulders roamed up into his hair, and the murmurs of appreciation he heard from above him spurred him on, nuzzling the softness of her belly while rising his hands up her back, fiddling inexpertly with the strap of her breast band.

He bowed his head forward as he concentrated, ruffling his hair across the skin of Kestrel's navel. He grumbled softly as his fingers twisted and wriggled, fumbling for the clasp. Kestrel stroked her hands through his hair, trailing her fingers across the shell of his ear and down his neck, across his shoulders unhelpfully. Only serving to distract him.

"What is this infernal thing?" he snapped quietly, speaking to the ground as his brows furrowed and he grew more insistent with his fingers.

"Now you know how annoying your armour is," Kestrel chuckled above him.

"Hmph."

"Let me," she murmured, easing his head up and gently guiding his hands away from behind her. Turning away from him, he watched with interest and growing lust as she pulled her long hair over one shoulder and reached behind her.

Kestrel's breast band hit the floor and she looked at him almost coyly over her shoulder. She twisted her fingers together behind her neck and Fenris saw she had covered her breasts with her arms as she turned around.

Whatever expression was on his face prompted her to explain, "I'm not particularly... confident in my appearance."

"Why?"

Kestrel shrugged her shoulders uneasily. "I'm just not."

He sensed there was more to her sudden bashfulness than just a dislike for her appearance, but didn't push it. She would talk to him, tell him, in her own time and even if he disagreed with her opinion of herself, he wouldn't change her mind with a handful of words.

Gently holding her elbow he guided her towards him as he swivelled and rose onto his knees on the bed. She followed him, melting into his kiss when he applied his lips to hers. She knelt against him, her legs positioned over one of his own. He kissed her gently, working his hands across her shoulders and easing her own hands away from her neck. She drew her hands down along his chest and abdomen slowly, dragging her nails lightly across his skin. His kisses grew more frantic as the tips of her fingers brushed against the growing heat in his breeches.

Her fingers tangled in the laces keeping the leather clothing to his body. She dragged her mouth from his, leaving him breathless, descending across his torso slowly, pausing to bite and kiss, nibbling around his navel eagerly.

Kestrel's fingers worked quickly, unlacing him. She stroked him through the material of his breeches and small clothes, her palm working along his length. He groaned softly, his eyes unfocused despite his best efforts to watch her.

Fenris pulled Kestrel's hair off her back over one shoulder, drawing his loose hand down across her shoulder blades.

She dipped further, lips and tongue trailing down. She bit down on his hip and he hissed gently. Unbidden he rose up a little as she tugged at his breeches. They eased around his backside and slowly she pulled them down his thighs, dragging his smallclothes with them.

The relief he felt as his length was released was immense, it was like suddenly being able to breathe after being denied air.

"Huh, so that's the colour of your smallclothes," Kestrel murmured, her lips vibrating against his sensitive skin. He laughed breathlessly as her fingers wrapped around him, stroking him from base to tip slowly as she kissed and nipped the skin around him.

Fenris' fingers curled into her hair tightly, his teeth clenched together at the delicious torment she overwhelmed him with. Her lips brushed across the hardness of him while her hands and fingers plied him with attention.

He leaned back a little, resting his weight on one hand, watching through unfocused eyes, Kestrel's lips moving around him. The tip of her tongue flickering from her mouth as she drew up along his length. The heat of her mouth around the head of his cock. An intoxicating warmth joined by the velvet roughness of her tongue stroking the sensitive tip.

His hips bucked anxiously as he bit back a moan and tightened the grip he had on her hair. She swallowed as much of his length as she could, slowly, pausing to stroke what remained open to the air with her hands. Her tongue lapped around him and she began to suckle, her lips tight around his girth, creating a vacuum.

Fenris' eyes rolled back into his head. He gulped in air, his head arching back as the sensations ripped through him. The lyrium markings sang and burned, pulsating intensely in his veins. Kestrel held his hip steady with her free hand, working her head and tongue along him, roughly pressing her tongue along the underside of his length and then pausing to pay attention to the very tip of him.

When she dragged her mouth away, applying attention through nibbling against him and dragging her tongue along his shaft, he couldn't take it.

He pulled her roughly upwards towards him, crushing her mouth with his and smothering her against him. Fenris dug his fingers under the faint fabric of her underwear - the only piece of clothing that remained on her body - and ripped at them, tearing the material without care. He pulled them away from her, discarding them vaguely somewhere over the edge of the bed.

Giggling, Kestrel leaned her hands against his shoulders, guiding him silently to lie back. She pulled his breeches and small clothes away from his legs and they too landed on the floor somewhere.

Then she was above him, her knees on either side of his hips, flushed and breathless and radiant in the glow of the fire. His chest rose and fell rapidly, sucking in air like he could never get enough to fill his lungs.

She touched her lips to his softly, stroking his hair with her fingers. A moment of gentleness amidst their heat and intensity.

"Kestrel--!" Fenris groaned as her hand closed around him and guided him along her entrance, teasing the tip of his cock with the warmth he sought. He rose his hips eagerly.

She hushed him gently, leaning her forehead down against his. "Fenris, shh."

He was inside her, her folds enveloping him and drawing him into her heat. Her body devoured him, inch by inch, her face knotted in concentration as she drew him in slowly. Fenris forced himself not to move, not to raise his hips or thrust into her until she was relaxed around him, his cock buried inside her up to the hilt.

His hands drifted down from where he had been gripping her hips, curving around to hold and clench around the flesh of her backside. Kestrel started to roll against him, grinding her hips against his slowly, her arms against the pillows either side of his head, eyes open, watching him and gauging his reaction.

She breathed rapidly, slowing her movements in contrast, dropping her head to kiss him. He drew his hands up over her torso, squeezing her breasts for the first time, feeling their weight and shape, pert pink nipples pressing into the rough palms of his hands as he appreciated her.

Kestrel leaned back, driving her hips against him with smooth, regular momentum. Fenris clutched her waist, digging his fingers into her skin, watching her above him, the intense blush across her chest, the expression of pure pleasure on her face, eyes closed, mouth open for each breath and every quiet murmur of satisfaction. Continuing to hold her, he travelled the flat of one hand across her belly, up her body and over her ribcage, clenching his fingers around the soft flesh of one breast. Kestrel sighed, interlocking their fingers, supporting herself with her free hand against his thigh.

Fenris pulled her towards him suddenly, wrapping his arms around her waist. Her arms lay in the pillows for support and she bit down on his lower lip gently. Her hips ceased to move for a moment and Fenris bent his legs, tightening his grip around her to keep her still and driving into her from below, hard, quick strokes working against her flesh. Her hair tickled his face and chest. He closed his eyes, concentrating on her breathing, on his, on the slight moans and hums of enjoyment that leaked out of her mouth.

Her arms encircled his shoulders and she drew her mouth across his, pushing her tongue past his lips, murmuring against him enthusiastically, the sound vibrating down into his core. Kestrel pulled away, breathless, short gasps and grunts of pleasure tumbling past her lips as she pushed herself up, leaning forward on her hands against the mattress. Fenris slowed and she rocked her hips against him, matching his pace until he snapped his hands to her waist and held her still, thrusting again from below, touching her core with each drive.

Kestrel heaved and lurched forward when he stopped suddenly, the noise escaping her mouth cut short by her own breathlessness. Fenris arched up off the covers and caught her lips, tangling his tongue into her mouth hungrily while her arms circled his shoulders in a contrasting act of tenderness. He eased her up to sitting, stroking his hands down her back, pulling her against him.

Fenris crossed his legs between her thighs while she knelt over him. He nuzzled the curve of her neck and bit down gently on her shoulder. She rolled her hips against him slowly, dragging deliberate pleasure from the easy pace and the depth of his cock inside her.

His breathing shuddered as she squeezed around him. Kestrel's fingers trailed across his back, following the outlines of his muscles. She tilted her head forward, pressing her sweaty brow to his as his head fell back. He saw her, lips bitten into her mouth, smiling feverishly as she rode him, slow grinds pressing against him, generating friction and pleasure for them both as she tightened around him.

"Kestrel," Fenris groaned and she stole his mouth away, swallowing the guttural noise that came next.

He dragged his fingers down her back, memorising the dip of her spine, the curve of her shoulder blades. The rise and shape of every scar, imprinting them to his memory.

Fenris tangled his hands into her hair, angling her head to kiss her hard, stealing quick breaths through his nose as she rocked against him. Her hands dug into his hair, pulling him closer, never breaking momentum, never changing speed. Remaining slow and gloriously warm and slick around him.

Kestrel moaned into his mouth, as he squeezed the flesh of her backside with one hand. She pulled away giggling, smiling lovingly at him, her hair a tangled mess on her neck and shoulders, the fire shining off her sweat-dampened skin.

She _was_ beautiful.

Looking at him with half-hooded eyes, drowning him in passion and want and adoration.

Adoration for him.

Want for him.

He had needed - _wanted_ \- this for so long, the reality far out-did his expectations. He had never thought he would see those emotions in the eyes of anyone, let alone her. Those feelings felt about him. Felt for him.

She was intoxicating, and with every breath of hers that fluttered against his mouth his need only grew.

"Fenris--," his name tumbled from her lips, breathlessly. Another rotation, another grind, and her fingers dug into his skin. She tightened around him, spasming suddenly and crashing her lips against his. He swallowed the sound she made, muffling it and drawing her tongue into his mouth as she hummed.

He felt her mana around the lyrium in his skin practically fizzle and tingle excitedly. Her muscles twitched and her movement stopped for the moment as she panted and slowly drew breaths through her nose, recovering from her height.

As she recovered, her forehead resting on his shoulder, he kissed the curve of her neck and the juncture of her breasts, drawing his fingertips across her swollen nipples slowly.

She mumbled incomprehensible words appreciatively against his skin, capturing the lobe of his ear with her teeth and gently biting down, practically purring in her throat. His gut was tight, heat bubbled, and as she moved slightly he knew he would be unable to last much longer.

Without warning, he flipped them so she lay on her back beneath him with her head in the pillows, long hair splayed out behind her like a pair of dark wings. He pushed her legs apart, kneeling between her thighs and drove into her gradually. Kestrel's back arched off the covers, a moan ripping from her throat. One of her hands sought his and she squeezed his fingers when she found it.

He thrust again, slowly building speed. Her back and hips risen off the bed, he buried himself inside her to the hilt and rolled his hips, cupping her backside with one hand for extra support. She tightened around him with every thrust, her breaths short, her ankles locking behind him, drawing him in, allowing him to bury himself deeper inside her.

His whole body shook with the effort it took him to stay slow, to generate a steady pace. Her fingernails dug into the back of the hand she held, while the other was buried in her hair, twisting up in it as he plunged into her. Kestrel's eyes were clenched shut, her lips bitten into her mouth, she muffled each exquisite noise.

Fenris leaned over her, bracing himself on his forearms at either side of her head. Kestrel winced a little.

"You're on my hair," she laughed excitedly. Fenris assisted in she clearing it from behind her until it was a mess above her head, on the pillows and out of the way.

Her hands trailed up across his back, over his arms and along his neck, pulling his lips down to hers. She kissed him deeply, the tip of her tongue sliding across his lips and descending into his mouth, pulling a short moan from him.

His hips moved, rising and falling with slow, deliberate strokes. Her body tensed around him and beneath him as they kissed, and soon a series of breathless groans were falling from her mouth. Her ankles clasped around him, Kestrel squeezed his thigh with one hand, burying her fingers in his hair with the other as she lifted her head off the pillows.

"Fenris,” she panted and he answered with a kiss which broke as he thrust. "Faster. Fenris, please." Her voice was practically begging, and he complied. He increased his speed, wrapping his arms around her waist, burying his face in her chest as the sound of his flesh slapping hers and their frantic stolen breaths filled her room.

The noise he made as he came undone was somewhere between a cry of satisfaction and a growl. Her lips captured his, devouring the sound as she clenched around him, her ankles behind his hips, drawing him deeper inside her. White spots appeared at the corners of his eyes as he clung to her waist, waiting for the excitement to pass.

It didn't.

He was accosted by things. Visions. People. Words. Voices.

A name.

The image of a woman with bright red hair, an elf like him.

Flashes of sounds, of images that had been dragged up from somewhere in his mind and now attacked him.

A life. A history.

A time before Danarius; a time he had forgotten.

He gasped and panted, ripping himself away from Kestrel as if he was suddenly on fire. His eyes wide with terror and his heart hammering against his ribcage, either from the fear and confusion he felt, or from the results of his climax. He snapped his hands to his head, fisting his hair frantically, clenching his teeth together and gritting his jaw.

Instantly, Kestrel was on her knees beside him. Her whole body was sweaty, shining in the firelight. Her hair mussed and tangled around her, a great black nest. The expression on her face pained him. Where a moment ago had been immense bliss, was now concern, worry, and puzzlement.

"Shh...." She slowly reached out with her hand, letting him see what she was doing as if she were addressing a frightened animal. Her fingers brushed his cheek and stroked gently, not speaking, only shushing him softly.

He calmed slowly, his heart rating dropping and the confusion easing away a little.

"I'm sorry," he apologised. He turned his head to kiss her palm and noticed then that he was trembling. "I don't know what... happened."

"It's alright," Kestrel soothed, whispering lovingly to him. She kissed his cheek gently. "It's alright. You don't have to tell me."

He tried to smile, but it wouldn't come easily and Kestrel noticed. She distracted herself, snatching up a blanket she kept on the bed, as well as the covers, and wrapped it around her naked form. He watched her while retrieving and pulling on his smallclothes. Kestrel crossed to her dresser, quickly rummaged through a draw, and then returned with a piece of scarlet material in hand.

"Here." She held it out to him and he looked at it, raising an eyebrow. She sat down and he beside her. "It's a silly thing, really, maybe I shouldn't give it to you, but... it's a favour."

"A favour?" Fenris repeated, running the material through his fingers. "The only favours I know of are the ones noble women would give to men if they were going to fight or competing in a tournament."

Kestrel nodded her head a little. "My mother gave that to me when we went to some fancy gathering for the nobles of Kirkwall once we had the estate back. Told me to give it to someone at the party if I fancied them. I didn't want to, kept it. Lied to her and said I'd given it to the son of some noble from Orlais," she rambled, and gently ran her hands through her hair. "Never mind, it was a stupid idea." She shook her head and reached for the material.

Fenris held it out of her grasp and instead looked at her seriously.

"You wish to give this... to me?" he clarified.

"Only if you want it," Kestrel explained. "It doesn't mean we're married. It's not a symbol of ownership. It's just a... token, of my feelings for you." She flushed, and Fenris found that endearing, that despite what they had just shared, she still blushed when bearing her more vulnerable side to him.

Wrapping the material around his wrist, he tied it with his fingers in a loose knot, knowing he would have to retie it over his gauntlets later. "Thank you," he spoke, pressing a kiss to Kestrel's temple in gratitude.

Without exchanging any further words, Kestrel curled up on one side of her bed, while Fenris followed hesitantly. He debated putting an arm around her, it seemed like the right thing to do and he wanted to, want to try and re-establish that closeness of minutes before.

But his mind swam with the images he had seen and the voices he had heard and he felt unclean, and he didn't want to tarnish Kestrel with that.

It was his past.

He was certain of it.

A time before Danarius, before his markings. A time he did not remember and then suddenly had, when he had only wanted a moment of happiness for himself. Even his markings had taken that away from him, ripped it from his grasp when he was so close to achieving it.

Kestrel fell asleep quickly, breathing softly on her side, wrapped in the blanket and snuggling a pillow to her body.

His gaze alternated between the back of her head and the red band around his wrist. A favour. A reminder of her feelings. He didn't deserve it. Didn't deserve the sentiment she showed him, didn't deserve her kindness, her warmth, her love. Nothing. He had nothing to offer her, nothing he could promise. He felt guilty and false being there, in her room, plagued by these nightmares that had come upon him unwarranted.

When he was sure she was asleep, he crept around silently, as he had been trained to do, and redressed, pulling his breeches up his legs and replacing them with shaking fingers. It took him longer than ever to fix the clasps on his tunic, to buckle his belt and pull on his gauntlets.

His mind drifted to only hours earlier, Kestrel's impossible quest to remove them. A smile tugged at his lips, and without thinking he brushed her hair off her face with the back of his hand before he fastened the armour to his clothing.

He had removed the red favour as he had redressed, and considered leaving it, letting Kestrel give it to someone more deserving. But the longer he stared at it the more he knew he couldn't leave it there and neglect it. He tied it around his left wrist snugly, a memento and nothing more.

Still shaking, his insides turning over and over, he stood by the fireplace, watching the flames as he drew in long breath after long breath, trying to calm himself and relax. He wanted to banish the images and voices from his mind, fill it instead with the sights and sounds of Kestrel, the smell of her skin and the glide of her fingers, the way her hips felt filling his hands.

But that was gone, stained by memories that had attacked him and mutated the night into one of discomfort and uncertainty.

He was only vaguely aware of Kestrel moving in bed when he heard her voice.

"Was it... that bad?" she asked, a tiny lilt of teasing in her tone.

"I'm sorry," he turned towards her, unable to meet her eyes and instead focusing on the floor, "it's not...." He paused and vaguely clenched his hand. "It was fine." He saw Kestrel's eyes dull, her expression shift slightly to disappointment, and struggled to recover. "No, that is insufficient." He breathed deeply through his nose. "It was better than anything I could have dreamed."

Kestrel arched an eyebrow and he watched her as she sat up, easing her long bare legs over the edge of her bed. She looked at him seriously. "Your markings. They hurt, don't they." It wasn't a question.

He knew he could open up to her, to tell her the daily pain he experienced with the lyrium in his skin. The burning, the agony that he had trained himself to keep at bay. But then where would that lead? It would open wounds he did not want Kestrel seeing, and had no desire to reopen now.

"It's not that." He drew away from her, pacing a few steps back and forth frantically. "I... began to remember. My life before. Just, flashes." His body hurt, his head ached, he felt like his throat was closing over as his breath caught. "It's too much-- this is too fast-- I cannot do this."

He said the words before he realised and then they were out in the open, hanging in the air like some stale curse or horrific vision.

Kestrel said nothing for a few moments, looking up at him with an expression he couldn't place. She was neither angry nor sad, outraged, or distressed. She looked... calm, if troubled.

"We can work through this," she explained gently, though Fenris had the feeling she knew whatever she said would not help. He hated how her voice cracked a little as she spoke, and that it forced her to clear her throat. "Fenris, let me help you."

"I'm sorry," Fenris sighed, shaking his head. "I feel like such a fool. All I wanted," he looked at her, meeting her eyes for a brief moment, "was to be happy. Just for a little while." He bowed his head and turned, not wanting to look at her any longer, or hear the way she breathed uneasily. "Forgive me..."

He had no right to ask, not now, and he wouldn't have blamed her if she never did, but it was all he could think of saying as he left her room, the words and brief happiness he had experienced lingering there.

 

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Art work  by faun-songs @ tumblr


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